Shipped out
by Ravenshirin
Summary: Rory James had a normal life-she went to college and partied like every other 21-year-old she knew-until she was kicked out of her home and forced to move to another town!  She learns what it means to live on her own...


It was much too early for her to be up, but she couldn't sleep a second longer. She had never left the island city her whole life—not even before she moved in with her uncle. How could he suddenly tell her to move out? How could he take her out of college and just ship her off? What had she done wrong to make him do something like that? She couldn't understand what she had done.

The day had started off the same way it always did. Rory sat at the table with her uncle and cousin in silence. They sat across from her with an odd look on their faces as they watched her eat. She wolfed down a bowl of cereal, two bananas, and a piece of toast before she even noticed that the two of them were staring at her. She gulped down a whole glass of chocolate milk before attempting to deal with them.

Once she'd actually tried to watch what she ate—the first time she weighed 140 pounds. She only ate greens for a week, but she soon realized something: she hated vegetables. Hunger made her hurt all over, and she found herself sleeping more than usual. She wouldn't have minded if it hadn't been for her cousin Jenni, who decided to report the whole thing to Uncle Tim. He immediately made her stop her diet and threw it out all the vegetables he had in the house. Much to her surprise, she was happy to be able to eat again, even if it meant gaining weight.

Rory Michelle James was not fat, not even nearly. She had always been a normal weight, and she looked nothing but healthy. If it hadn't been for the pressure she'd witnessed to be like other girls she'd seen—ones who were much too skinny—then she never would have even noticed. She had realized after a while, though, that being a normal girl who stood out wasn't at all great.

You see, Rory was born with brilliant red hair and a very pale complexion. She burned easily, and her body was covered in freckles—she could be spotted out of a crowd of people. At first, she tried to ignore people and just be herself, but it didn't last long. She started school at the Harmonia Island Elementary School during the middle of the school year her 2nd grade year. She quickly learned that young children are cruel—she was bullied and pranked for years. When she hit puberty, it became even worse. During her 8th grade year, she finally decided to stop eating, but that was quickly stopped. She started buying makeup and staying away from the sun in order to stay pale and beautiful. Finally, after nearly 11 years of trying, Rory was starting to fit in.

Unfortunately, it wasn't to last. When Rory finished eating breakfast that spring day, she was greeted by cold stares. She tried to think through what she could have done wrong, but nothing came to mind. Her grades had never been higher, she didn't come home late, and her room was spotless… What were they staring at her for?

"Rory James…" Her uncle cleared his throat and looked toward the floor. Something was definitely up.

"Please, father, let me." Jenni spoke up, pushing her long black hair out of her face. She stood up from the table, grabbed Rory's dirty bowl with a perfectly manicured hand, and placed it in the sink before turning back. "This will be the last meal you eat with us."

Rory stared at Jenni's tanned features, not understanding. Those pretty green eyes were so serious—what would make it so that Rory wouldn't eat with her family again? Why was she saying that? Her green eyes met with her cousin's—it was the only feature the two of them shared—but she couldn't understand.

"Are you listening to me?" Her cousin cut into her thoughts like a knife through butter. "You won't eat here anymore. You won't do anything here anymore."

"…Why wouldn't I…?"

"You're no longer welcome." Jenni sighed and looked away. "We've prepared a place for you to stay on the mainland. We'll give you some money to get you started—it's all prepared. You're things will be sent after you."

Rory still didn't get it. Why would they be sending her away? Had she done something wrong? She and her cousin had never gotten along, but they still were family. Uncle Tim and Jenni were the only people she'd ever really known. Her parents had died when she was too little to remember much about them, so those two were all she had. Why so suddenly…? And where were they sending her?

Rory was beginning to regret breakfast; she didn't feel so good. She had a million questions to ask, but her mouth felt as dry as the Mojave Desert. Instead, she just sat gaping at the air around her cousin, trying to figure out what she meant.

"Daddy, can you help me?" Jenni asked softly, refusing to look Rory's way.

"At noon, your things will be taken to your new home. As for you, you have an hour to get all the essentials; then we'll take you to the harbor." Tim stood up from the table and turned his eyes to Rory. His big bald head was glistening with perspiration (the morning was already pretty warm—still a bit of late summer heat), and his muscular arm were tense. He was upset… but why, then?

"So… you're kicking me out?" Her voice surprised her, high and weak. She cleared her throat and tried to continue, but no words came out.

"It's not—"Pretty much." Jenni cut her father off with an odd look on her face. "You should go get your things, Rory."

What was she supposed to do? She placed her hand on her purple wall and glanced at each of the pictures she had put up over the years, on one side was the bands she liked when she first moved into the house—Backstreet Boys, Brittney Spears, and TLC—and on the other was the bands she loved now—Evanescence, Nickelback, and Rihanna. A window was next to her purple polka-dotted bed, which was a mess, and next to that was her dresser with her makeup and a large mirror.

"Essentials…?" Rory murmured, slowly walking over to her dresser and picking up her eyeliner, mascara, lip gloss, and some ponytails. "How can you pick only a couple of things to be essential?" She placed the items on her bed before pulling out some of her favorite clothes—2 pairs of skinny jeans, a miniskirt, a pair of shorts, and 5 shirts—4 nice and one old. She grabbed some socks, her favorite tights, 2 pairs of high heels, and her tennis shoes.

"Do you need help?" When Rory turned around, she saw Jenni in the doorway.

"…Sure…"

"You know, this is for your own good." Jenni started as she grabbed a sleeping bag and a pillow. "We're not throwing you out, exactly… We're trying to do what's best…" She added a toothbrush and toothpaste to the rapidly growing pile on Rory's bed. "We don't have a choice…" A towel, some soap, and a razor were added to the list.

"You… don't have a choice but to throw me out?" Rory's voice shook slightly as she turned on the girl who'd been a sister to her since she was 7 years old. "You don't have a choice but to snatch me away from my whole life? Did you regret taking me in all of a sudden?"

"Rory, that's not—"Get out!"

A pillow hit Jenni in the face before she could finish. It fell to the floor, and both of the girls stared at each other in shock and anger. Then, without another word, Jenni left Rory to pack her things. It didn't make Rory feel any better—she had expected to fight like they always did. It was starting to look like they couldn't even do that—like she really was just a stranger that had come into their house. She'd never felt more alone…

"What did I do wrong…?" Rory began stuffing the contents on her bed into a bag that her uncle had bought her several years before. It was a nice bag, well-made and durable with bright purple letters that spelled out her name. Everything in the room had been bought by her uncle—he had taken care of her, raised her—she thought he loved her. How could she have been mistaken?

When she came down the stairs, wearing her nicest dress and heels, her uncle chuckled and shook his head. She didn't pay too much attention to it—surely he didn't expect her to leave her expensive things in his traitorous hands? Even as she thought this, guilt crept into her stomach and heart, making her sick. She needed to keep him on her side if she was going to convince him to let her stay despite whatever she did wrong.

"Uncle Tim… Is this about the argument I had with Jenni the other day…?" Rory's voice was small and shaky as she asked. "Or something else? What did I do wrong…?"

"Rory, you didn't do anything." He said quietly, sighing and looking toward the ground. "It's about time for you to go, though. There should be someone here to escort you to the harbor. The boat ride should be done by tomorrow morning. Jenni made you some lunch to eat along the way. She also made you this drink—I know it looks gross, but it's supposed to cure sea sickness, she said."

"Please, Uncle Tim! Please don't make me go…" Right at that moment, a knock came at the door. Tim opened it and sighed at the middle-aged man standing in the doorway.

"Mayor Brown, it's good to see you. Are you here to get my niece?" Rubbing his bald head, Tim laughed nervously. "She's nervous about going, so I hope you'll treat her well."

"Of course." The large man walked into the room and looked up at Rory with overly round eyes. "I hope she's ready?"

"I… I'm ready…" Rory took the bottle of strange liquid out of her uncle's hands before turning toward the door. As an afterthought, she turned back and hugged the only family members she could remember, but she didn't pay attention to how they acted—she was still in too much shock from the fact that they were _kicking her out_.

After that, she was led outside to an old truck sitting outside. The man who came to get her opened and shut the door for her and was very polite in everything that he said, but he was very to-the-point and didn't say much. He told her where she was going: Rainbow Village (what type of name was that?). She had a house that she could pay off when she got the money—it was incredibly cheap, but still much more than she had. He also explained that she'd have to find a job at the place until she could fix up the place "enough to manage," though she didn't know what that actually meant. How would she "fix up" a place anyway? She didn't know anything about fixing anything!

Before she knew it, the man had stopped in front of the harbor and was opening her door for her. She tried to memorize his features—his black eyes, brown hair, stubbly beard, and large stomach—before she left, but she felt rushed. He nodded to her as the ship sailed away, but never said anything. When he was out of sight, she was left to wait for the trip to be over, but all she could think was, what did it matter where they took her? Her life was already over.


End file.
